Birthing a dreamer...
I've managed to borrow a friends computer today while at moment fighting a horrid plague caught at DCon and while watching das lil one while static_eddie is off at a business type meeting at Turner, so have a lil bit of time to try and catch up on somethings online and try to cut and paste the word doc of my birth story (which took me on and off a month to write between baby, and other life things)
I apologize for it's lengthy size but felt I shouldn't try and cut things out to make it short being what it is.And in some ways feel I still left out somethings and could keep writing.
Eventually I'll get to work on part two on the week following the birth and the stressful time in the Children's Hospital with her.
Also eventually and maybe even today before I leave Atlanta and still have access to a friends online will write up a DCon entry and pix maybe.. we shall see though, still sad about loosing over half my Friday night of con pix and all the good Abney park shots and videos.. trying not to mourn it though...,Anyway first things first.
As we all know (or some of you readers) I went past my supposed initial due date of June 20th.. well way past I guess? 43 weeks and 2 days according to my chart and the online baby widget on my profile page, I still don’t put much stock in the accuracy of due-dates or mine for that matter. But after I saw her born I can at least admit somewhat she looked and could well be at least somewhat post-date, but really she was born when she was ready to, and I don’t regret not interfering or trying to induce her, and allowing her to come when she was ready and meant to.
Though still sad I had to sadly lose out on my original birth plan and having a natural water birth at a birthing center with my wonderful midwife due to stupid SC law of going past 42 weeks.
I days later (Thursday I believe it was?) went to Manning SC at the request of my midwife to see the Nurse Midwife (who did all my paps and other test that deemed me a non-risk healthy pregnancy) and to also see the M.D who did my 2nd trimester ultrasound to try and get a NST.
I was very apprehensive of this, and in some ways felt it very unnecessary, I felt just fine and the baby felt just fine, and due to lots of research felt it would be a battle on some of it keeping me out of being coaxed into any form of inductions.
Of course the NST and Ultrasound came back with the stereotypical results almost in a order that most docs like to feed you and in the usual scare tactics, only one was accurate in the end, and it still didn’t hinder the birth or harm her. And the M.D did give me the usual scare tactics and told me to no later then Monday try and wait this out or risk it.
I still in the end listened to my body and other things, I sadly had to tune out the negatives from some well meaning folks as well.
But I only agreed to quell the increasing fears of my near family and some friends, and to keep them off my back. As some of you know how that was one of the main struggles and major factoring of stresses, which I still believe helped stall my labor in a lot of ways if not mainly due to the added stress.
I know they meant well, and I know they cared and were scared, but the tactics that were used during those last weeks, the things said and some of the lack of support or belief in me really hurt (and still does) and really made a time very hard on me that could of been a lot gentler even quicker if I was trusted and left to be.
I had to literally take up not accepting calls/visits and total avoidance and my partner to keep many at bay, and to keep myself in a zen and positive zone best we could.
And not let the fear tactics or negatives fill my head. I came very close over the weekend of the birth wanting to seriously pack up the car with my lover, take my cat and go out of town or hell even the woods and get far away from the current home situation, out of the state and birth the baby somewhere else due to all the stress and feeling so unsafe and unsupported even threatened to birth (it felt that bad) I did literally feel this deep primal mother bear type urges and protectiveness taking over and seriously was considering some alternatives if I was to be continuously harassed, and not supported and understood.
I was tired of defending myself, explaining, or even trying to show what I did know and it falling on def ears, I was tired of fighting and having to avoid those who couldn't or wouldn’t understand. Regardless of how much I care about them or vice versa, regardless of supposed good meaning intentions, there was just too much negative, too much fear and stress and not something a pregnant woman in her last few days before birth should be dealing with.
I had to fight to really go inward really tune into my body, into this baby and do what I felt was right.
I think in the end regardless of some of the changes in original plan and the changing in birth course took, I still feel deep down I listened well and reacted the way I needed to and when I needed to.
And regardless of other peoples opinions, worries and self doubt about it all and towards me.
Was it the ideal birth or one I had hoped for?
No….
not by a long shot.
But it happened the way it happened and there are some things I wish happened or mourn slightly that didn’t. But the over all I adapted to and accepted, and the over all outcome is what happened, was meant to happen, and could have been a lot different and a lot worse.
So I am ok with it, though could of gladly done without some things.
But the important thing is I have a healthy baby girl and some of the trials we went through from that day to the following days were meant and made us stronger I think.
I left the experience empowered in a lot of ways and am grateful my inner strengths came out the way they did and was able to tackled fears and demand in a lot of ways my wants and get through a lot of it, and as naturally as possible.
This includes as well my pregnancy with all the hurdles and oppositions I received during it and overcame.
I did my damndest to try and have a relaxing weekend, and to make the current place as calming and zen before Mondays next NST test and possible hospital admittance.
And lucky me I managed to labor finally that weekend before anymore test or more interference from various sources.
So after all that above onto the labor!
From what I've gathered from my various scribbled and compiled notes
I managed to find and from cluttered memory,
Friday saw much labor inducing relaxing techniques, cooking type nesting maybe? Cuddling and sex, and not allowing the phone or inquiries, impending deadlines to affect.
Saturday relaxed, and a trip to dinner and a movie later that night to see Hellboy
Which baby while still inside seemed very active to this, and I was determined to see it one way or another when it came out in theaters.
Sunday morning around 7am saw me up for the usual morning potty break out of dead sleep, back to bed after a slightly uncomfortable bowel movement, which really only happens once a day during the day, and not so harsh.
But through the morning I would have repeats of this and no more sleep after 8am due to a evil developing hemorrhoid. I’ve never had one till this point, and this one would become the bane of my existence and through my labor.
I also began to notice more crampy like menstrual sensations and saw just a lil bit of tinged pink pee on the toilet paper and a shininess to it, along with a lil more potent contractions. I had some past few days but so spaced out and not enough to make me pause as much.
I ended up coming downstairs to the den to announce somewhat excitedly to my partner who was surprisingly still up, hadn't slept all night and was playing a Star Wars video game. That I believe I was in the beginning stages of real labor, but to not get too excited or worked up just yet and see how the day would play out.
So we both tried to not count or keep too much track of contractions, but noted when there was significant differences and new physical changes, and to just try and go about the task of the day.
Through the day and evening I seemed to of transitioned from the various 3 main stages almost to text book typical perfect-like in my childbirth class book and kinda quickly what it seemed like and what my partner assumed and witnessed. Though I felt the last two stages (transition and 2nd/last stage) kept going back and forth around the end.
The earlier stages seemed like a breeze and almost at times very enjoyable, sometimes orgasmic in an odd way.
And I felt I could cope very well, and counted myself lucky thus far with how it felt like smooth sailing in some regards. And began to let myself ride it all out and hoped for by nighttime or early morning my lil girl would be in my arms in no time soon and I could do this at home just fine. My gut reactions through most the day and night were positive, and she was still very responsive inside, nothing to cause me any alarm or worry to make any dashes to the hospital and to proceed in any other way then stay comfortable at home and ride this out.
We had our supplies at the ready, we ended up making the various rooms prepped for laboring comfort and birth. The birth center sterilized packed bags full of chux pads and towels and other sorids at the ready, teas and fluids and snacks easily always in arms reach, though as labor progressed it became harder to want to eat.
I think it was around sometime in the early afternoon was when the cramps were getting a lil more strong and the lower back pains getting a lil more intense, along with that damn newly agitated hemorrhoid was making things a bit uncomfortable to the point sitting, or laying down became impossible. A shower became my saving grace and sanity keeper through the rest of my labor more so in the last hours.
Not to mention the only real thing next to massage or counter pressure from my partner on my sacrum to keep the pain at bay or bearable. Thank god for detachable shower heads, semi strong water pressure and awesome supportive partners with patience and stamina.
Sometime early mid-afternoon round about is when I started really noticing a significant increase in amount of mucus, along with some here and there small amounts of tinge pink every time I wiped. And I began to wear pads for the next few hours just so I didn't drip anywhere and to monitor it a bit better.
Much stronger cramps and contractions as the day progressed I was too much in a zone most the time to remember to continue to keeping a written log in my notebook which I misplaced at some point.
But I do remember closer to evening things started feeling more intense, and I remember my partner getting the smart idea to drag our guest-bedroom mattress out and down to the downstairs den/living room (which I spent the remaining of my labor other then between in the shower) our own bedroom became too difficult to be comfortable in, my birthing ball and chair did nothing but bring some form of agony, even leaning over the bed. Which kneeling soon became the only real position I could do comfortably due to the hemorrhoid, and the growing awareness and developing increase of bothersome back labor. I did in the last couple hours end up back in the bedroom, but spent the majority of my labor on the mattress downstairs or leaning against the stairwell banister with a pillow, chux pads under me while I moaned, swayed and pleaded constantly for my partner to apply hand pressure on my lower back. This really became my only labor comfort, next to him fetching cold cloths and rice packs, and forcing RRL Tea or water in me.
He was such a trooper through all this and with even less sleep then me, and did good to read and mostly anticipate my needs, which is never really easy even outside something like this. And I know there were some later stages in the morning that he was getting really bored in some ways and drained, it became that monotonous and predictable on some levels.
Even dealt well with when I just about puked on him at some point accidentally. I ended up in the heavier stages throwing up at least I think 3-4 times? It was awful and I really didn't think I was gonna be a puker.
I know that by 11pm or 12am not sure of the exacts? These are the times of labor things became a lil more blurred and time melted together.
It became increasingly hard to move about, contractions were seeming to come closer, but I gave up timing, and couldn't really focus on it. And I kept feeling like I constantly wanted to poop (luckily nothing like that happened, though it was one of my silly labor embarrassing type fears) but yeah lots of that feeling, a very angry hemorrhoid, exhaustion kicking in hard core, clothing became annoying and at some point I went between nothing to just a long blue satin button-up nightshirt to nothing again, and I think my water may have started leaking by this point? But it wasn't a lot to make me be bothered, and the color was still clear, mixed with mucus.
I spent a lot of time kneeling on the mattress on the floor with my elbows and head propped on a pillow on the edge of the couch, with partner continuing to massage, comfort and talk me through as my moans and grunts became more prominent and the pain came in waves, but still bearable enough to ride out and keep going.
I did fall asleep between some of the contractions, even though my knees and legs were screaming from all the kneeling and the weight and pressure from being on them all day and night.
I think around the morning hours is when I probly took the most showers and the longest, sometimes with the help of my partner. It was really the only way I could keep awake, keep focused and relieve the build up in my back and bottom, that and alternating between sitting on the toilet just as much if not more.
Sitting on the toilet at least relieved my partner and gave him some much needed breaks, it also was the only way I could bare to sit for a bit and not be in total agony.
But sadly neither methods didn't help for too long, things were just feeling too intense and the dawn was creeping, and I wasn't feeling like I was progressing any further, in fact I felt kinda stuck and started to get really scared.
Tons of contractions one right after another and hard, lots of feelings of baring down, but just not feeling able to progress or maybe not knowing how? My knowledge, instincts and body felt like it was failing me, and I was in this terrible loop of pain and endless bearing down.
I remember after one of my last finale showers maybe around 5am/6am?
We both noticed a distinct change in smell and in my discharge, a lil murkier colored then previous hours and slightly unsettling.
I also started getting this gut reaction that something felt off, and I started worrying about lil girl. I hadn't been able to feel much movement from her, not even a real thump here and there even with the usual prodding.
Which is not normal for her at least in most circumstances, and wasn't sure if labor was just exhausting to her and why she wasn't moving at that time? But it started making me panic mixed with the not being able to progress any further and just having 2 hours of the same motions and pain over and over.
At about 7am-8am (again time was uncertain and meshed together about this point and after, it could have been 9am I think is when both me and my partner really started getting so exhausted and so worried that it was time to make a decision.
It was starting to look like my further time at the house continuing this labor and birthing this child at home was not looking like it was gonna be a workable or safe feeling option anymore and it was time to go the alternative and maybe while we could scoot my ass to the hospital.
This in itself would become a hard feet to accomplish..
I remember my partner in desperation calling our child birth educator (who happens to also be a Doula, and has been numerous times over this pregnancy a great source of advice and endless support) to ask advice on how we should progress. I really didn't want to go to the hospital and was fearful of what would happen once I got there, what interventions would I be pushed into or quilted into? And that my natural labor may just very well be slipping further away if we made this choice. But also knowing at the very least maybe they could check to see how the babies heart rate and status was and maybe a. let me labor natural or b. let me go back home (I doubted the latter) but was not aware really how far I truly was progressed at this point or even bothered or remembered to try to do a dilation self check.
She suggested either go to the hospital, grab a doula there, or take the option of using a doula friend of hers who is apprenticing and close to finishing her certification but would assist the birth at our home for free.
Being the hour it was, the feelings I was having, and not knowing or have met this potential doula, and due to the circumstances, my gut instinct and ticking clock we felt it better to go with the hospital.
Though I do wish I knew of and met this doula before my labor, I would of gladly considered her then.
I think we got to the hospital around 9:30 10am?
It took so much effort to grab the bags, do some last minute packing, get me dressed, get me to get in the car (movement was becoming quite difficult) my partner made me get in the passenger seat and straddle it and face the backseat forward, I couldn’t sit otherwise.
And kept muttering during the drive between grunts and moans that I think we were too late I think I might of fucked up, I didn’t know anymore or felt certainty with anything, but I was really getting worried and scared, but I kept praying and trying to listen inward that everything is ok, it’s not too late we didn’t fuck up..
That 5-10 minute ride was hell and amusing all at the same time. I’m sure I was a sight to the morning commuters on the highway that we passed, with my tangled crazy hair, sundress, glazed crazy breathing moaning pain face, straddling the car seat and madly squeezing a bright orange squishy ball (the kind made of rubber and has lil spikes and lights up) this was one of my labor focus objects, which I ended up tearing a hole into it on the way due to the intensity of the contractions.
I remember my partner pulling up to the hospital entrance, grabbing a wheelchair struggling to get me to comfortably sit down. All I wanted to do was stand and lean over things, and kept begging to be allowed to but knowing it would be hell to try and get upstairs otherwise. And to try and wheel me to the 2nd floor where the Doulas we called about before leaving the house were stationed, though the front desk people in the lobby seemed confused and determined to take me straight to maternity.
My partner was afraid to leave me unattended and afraid someone would try and wheel
me away while he went to go park the car.
Luckily I was left alone for the most part and was able to keep myself calm and not look too obvious I was laboring hard and to not be bothered till he got back.
Well when he got back we managed to be escorted to the floor where the doula’s station was and managed to snag a doula. Her name was Gene, and if she was a doula you could of fooled me, most quiet and not involving doula I’ve ever met, and really I didn’t feel like she was supportive or involved like what a doula normally is or should be regardless of the last minute circumstances.
She then had me go to a room, quickly undress and put a gown on, have a nurse check my dilation, and to all our surprise discover that I seem to have been at 10cm’s and pretty effaced and ready to go. Use the restroom, pea in a cup, and then quickly got me back in the wheelchair and whisked me down to labor and delivery, where I was quickly greeted by Dr. K and a whole slew of females who I’m sure had good intentions, are good at what they do, but apparently not use to natural birthers, or folks who prefer to come in as late as possible and prefer no interventions.
I had an interesting and slightly tough time standing my ground and demanding/requesting all these things from no drugs (though it was too late for most) No C-Cection unless desperately and seriously required and it would mean I was not progressing at all or the baby wasn’t descending, and the stupid monitor was seeing a major decrease. I also demanded no cutting whatsoever, and to let me tear if it comes down to it.
I kept watching out of the corner of my eye the doctor gradually scoot her table of sharp shiny tools of evil cutting closer and. closer to the bed and occasionally remarking about how if I didn’t progress or if looked like babies shoulders would get stuck that she would have to for the safety of the baby cut my prenium. I told her to let me tear and push and fan her out and be patient with me. I found myself repeating this a few times during labor.
She also wanted to take out my barbell hood piercing, claiming it might tear, catch on the baby, but they would put it back in after the labor, which I know now that wouldn’t of happened, remember to or them know how to.
First mistake and what I found laughable was she mistook it for a clit piercing, I told her (though I don’t remember, but my partner did) telling her if it tears it tears and leave it alone in a loud commanding voice.
Thankfully she backed off on that and respected my wishes
Not sure the exact amount of time I was pushing, from the moment I got in bed to the moment lil girl was out?
But I think it was something like 30-minutes, the documented report the doula sent us later doesn’t give the best indication and claimed it was maybe an hour but we were only in total labor 14 hrs (she misheard our report when we first got in) my partner thinks it was an hour due to the last cell phone log to my mother right as we got into the delivery room.
From my notes starting around 7am Sunday morning to the minute little girl was born at 11:49am I’d say close to 29 hrs in a half maybe of labor round about
All I know is pushing in a semi sitting up position sucks, and I hate that hospitals only allow that or use of a squat bar on the bed, but no other positions.
I really wanted and felt leaning over the bed was where I needed and wanted to be in these last moments and that the doctor to catch in whatever position I wanted and felt the best, but that wasn’t convenient for her and she declined.
And so there I was too weak to tackle that squat bar (and not really encouraged, other then by my partner) and around the end found myself grasping with my hands the stirrups and begrudgingly pushing in a very uncomfortable taxing position and knowing full well I was gonna tear in this position and with the demanded form of bearing down and pushing, and be surprised to get her out actually and without a major tear.
My new surrounding birthing team didn’t seem the most encouraging or positive at times and their constant annoying chanting and cheer-leading of “puuuush, bare down, breath, puuuush, that’a girl, come on!!” and telling me how to push and when while a few of them took turns holding my legs wide open really annoyed the piss out of me actually.
Maybe cause it felt practiced, common and fake, and being told when and how to push in this situation when they don’t know what my body is telling me, and trying to base off the fetal/contraction monitor instead.
I also was annoyed at how they treated my partner, with only allowing him begrudgingly to collect and feed me ice chips and wet cloths, once in awhile allowing him to hold my other leg.
He was not allowed to catch, nor cut the cord, the doctor. did not deem it safe enough due to the amount of merconium and the supposed possible high-risk situation. But really I think it boiled down to and by her tone and reaction she just didn’t want to, and seemed annoyed at such a request among all the other ones we kept making.
So here I am pushing with all my might, wanting to just be done already, shut the annoying cheerleading squad up, and avoid Doctor happy cut who was making me more nervous by the minute, with her constant reminders of cutting and vacuum suctioning if I didn’t hurry up and work harder and push.
So I pushed and pushed and prayed to whatever God/Goddess that I get through this and can do this without any interventions and these bitches will back off and my lil girl will be out and is healthy.
I don’t know how many pushes or where or how exactly I mustered the energy?
But somehow I got her out, and it was the most bizarre feeling of her coming out and I’m still unable to find adequate words to describe. Yes there was a slight sting, and lots of squish, and slime, and it felt like my vagina was a never ending gushing volcano of various colors and sensations and aromas, that the colors I could only imagine up in a paint pallet. My partner described them as almost fake, cartoon like or like the blood in the opening of Sweeny Todd, mixed with the color of the merconium water. So many rich dark and light browns, crimson dark reds and fake bright red is what I gathered from my partner, who also later joked and referred to my crotch as like a Dairy Queen ad done up like Moridor (from LOTR).. gotta love geeks right?
I only was able to see some of it splattered on the doctor’s scrubs, and for some reason I took a twisted glee from that sight of her covered in it, not sure why? Other then I didn’t and still do not like this doctor and she was not who I wanted to assist in my delivery nor my post-partum care.
But she was and can’t change it now.
She I also later found out from my original midwife and childbirth educator and my own personal reading and impression of her is an enemy of sorts of my midwife, dislikes her and natural birthing and anything involving holistic or natural. And has attempted in the past to get the birthing center shut down since it first opened in January down the street from the hospital. Guess the competition got to her, or she just can’t stand anything natural as I’m gradually learning from my delivery experience with her and the way she talks during some of my post-partum checkups…who knows?
Ironic and surreal that this would be the woman who would end up attending my baby’s birth, though I wished it weren’t the case in all regards.
I refuse to say she delivered for obvious reasons.. I so hate the term and feel it is wrong, because when it came down to it I did, she just happened to be the one in front to catch.
Anyway so with baby finally out, though not moving when she first came out and as they lifted her, I was in such a daze at this point and took a bit to register she was out and being taken across the room, I remember briefly and was confused when my partner tried to block my view, looked a bit freaked out and sad and kissed me quickly I got this deep sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach when he did this (he later claimed that was because he thought we lost her due to her not moving and we were too late) but luckily out of the corner of his eye he saw her kick out her leg strongly on the way over to the warmer. Sadly they quickly whisked her across the room to be examined and suctioned, we begged them to try and do the examination on the bed with me, or at least scoot the bed or examination table closer, but this was received with a half assed attempt to scoot the bed and get as close as we could without cutting the cord. But mostly a no can do, not in this situation and with this much merconium. We begged them to let the cord finish pulsing and baby girl receive all her cord blood, which was also sadly received with a no (this actually pissed me off a bit) but was unable to do anything about it since they quickly did it before me and my partner could say much further.
I was at least grateful my partner was able to go to the warmer and watch everything the techs did, and to request certain things not be done as per our birth plan, and most was met with a ok and respected.
So baby managed despite all the merconium, being late and doubtful outcome came out with a perfect 10 apgar (which is rarely give at this hospital so I was told by numerous people) It was nice but surreal to hear her cry out (though it seemed so sweet and not that loud) and it truly sink in hey she’s alive, hey I really did it, and hey we haz a baby!
And only after some clean up of me and ten minutes apart I think she was finally brought over to me by my partner, where we finally got to lock eyes and have that moment, which still saddens me a bit I didn’t get to have it the minute she came out and I wasn’t the first to hold her.
But was relieved to finally get to hold her, even though my partner said by the look of me I had a very matter of fact attitude and look about me and was a bit short with anyone who came near or said anything to me. I guess momma bear was still prominent.
I didn’t cry like I thought I would and I usually do around newborns, this kinda surprised me, but I think due to all that transpired I was in a certain mode and shock.
She was so wide eyed, alert and beautiful, regardless of initially being very red faced and blotchy with scratches across her face. She is very claw face happy, and in till the 2nd day or so we weren’t able to get her mittens, which she sadly still has to wear at current till she learns to be nicer to her face. What is it about baby girls mostly who I’ve noticed have a penchant for clawing their faces?
She did quickly and perfectly latch, and we were at least allowed a few minutes together before annoying nurses started trying to take blood pressure again and hook me up to annoying antibiotics, and the other nurse and my partner left with the baby to the nursery for cleanup and whatevers.
I was however very annoyed once again at Dr. K for during while they were checking out the baby in the warmer earlier she was down at my stuff apparently checking out the rest of the cord, later told by my partner she was also taking samples and blood, which pissed me off because that was not asked and agreed to be donated nor was she explaining to me what she was doing. And I found her muttering under her breath and just enough for me to probly hear how not good it all looked and how could I be so risky.
She was also lightly tugging on my cord, and it took me a minute to recognize the sensation and had to ask her if she was pulling on the cord and trying to birth the placenta that way?
She said yes but she was being careful and she kept annoyingly referring to it as the afterbirth, I snapped at her and said can you please let me birth and push the placenta on my own. Which thankfully and in that annoying sitting position I somehow managed to do so in one strong push (thank you super kegels)
I also during the labor apparently only had a 2nd degree tear and one that I knew instinctively and was ok with letting heal on it’s own with no stitching. Which seemed to shock and dismay my doctor who was eager and insisted I should get a couple of stitches and was surprised by my high pain tolerance through all the labor and after. I think I only took 4 darvocets total after the birth and during my first day recovering.
I also had not massive amount of hemorrhaging if barely after it all and the days later. Hurray for alfalfa and good diet during pregnancy and before labor! The nurses kept commenting on that and were surprised for some reason?
Du’h good nutrition and certain herbs can benefit :p
After all that we did manage to convince her to let us keep the placenta.
Which was received by a very surprised, confused and probly disturbed reaction from all in the room. I just simply stated along with my partner that it was both a personal and spiritual reason and I was willing to sign a release form if need be and had my own container as well. I knew it was my legal right beforehand that I am allowed to take it home.
I reluctantly got a yes to that request, a form to fill out and told to not to make it known that I was receiving such (they don’t want it to become common knowledge that such could be allowed) After all in their eyes it’s considered body waste or a supposed bio-hazard. Which is sad and not what it really is or how I and many folks see it. And I’m sure they are not use to patients requesting or wanting such. My supposed natural or granola ways seemed to be a curious thing to them during our stay and would be questioned throughout.
So they put it in a container and held it in a fridge during my stay and did end up giving it to us as we left on the last day.
I wasn’t too thrilled about the massive chunk they took out of it for supposed sample for testing. I was promised that there would be barely an inch taken.
And was numerous times warned to please not digest any of it, or even encapsulate it like I had told them and originally planned to. Due to the state it was in when it came out (there was only a lil bit of calcification) I still am unsure if I want to believe them on that warning? And I want to consult some other folks with more experience or have had a similar situation. For now though it is still frozen and untouched, and awaiting a possible alternative decision on what to do with it. We may just still do art stamp prints with it and bury it and plant a tree with it route. But I really wanted to have it encapsulated in pill form and take it like a vitamin during the post-partum period.
But at the very least they did at least give it to us with no real hassle or flack so am grateful for that one request being granted.
So the rest of the hospital stay and tale is not as exciting or worth going into detail over
Though there were some moments and issues that could be worth noting but not as major as the ones mentioned above.
And I’ve made this entry way long enough. Needless to say I after this experience still hate hospitals even more, wished I could of brought lil girl into this world on a more comfortable note; like not in a hospital, among harsh lights, total strangers, cold pokey, prodding, and pricking things.
And just have been able to bring her into this world in dim subtle lighting, comfortable home like surroundings, possible water birth transition, and just uninterrupted first hours together. Something the hospitals dearly lack.
I think we would of benefited 100x’s more better if this were the case.
The lack of uninterrupted sleep every 15 minutes or every hour, crappy food, and some of the not so desirable lack of friendly or considerate bedside manner from some of the staff really kind of dampened the experience and birth high. Not to mention making it hard to breastfeed or enjoy the newness and time with my daughter. Don’t get me started on my rant about certain evil old chrochity technicians in the nursery who can’t due PKU’s right and made what could have been a simple procedure a traumatic and damaging experience for my daughter along with, crappy aggressive lactation consultants… but that’s for another later entry and part of the cause of our first few days with her being hell in various ways and ending up at the children’s hospital for a week.
This is why I am a firm believer that freestanding or home birth is the best and most ideal in so many ways especially if one is low risk and um not late. And if I ever do end up having a 2nd I will do my best and hope to be able to reclaim and experience such that I didn’t get to this first time.
If you read this far and I didn’t lose you or bore you too much… Congrats! Heh.
More baby pix some recent past few weeks have been added. Dcon ones will be added soon.
http://www.flickr.com/photos/kaotikvisions/sets/72157603901011253/
I apologize for it's lengthy size but felt I shouldn't try and cut things out to make it short being what it is.And in some ways feel I still left out somethings and could keep writing.
Eventually I'll get to work on part two on the week following the birth and the stressful time in the Children's Hospital with her.
Also eventually and maybe even today before I leave Atlanta and still have access to a friends online will write up a DCon entry and pix maybe.. we shall see though, still sad about loosing over half my Friday night of con pix and all the good Abney park shots and videos.. trying not to mourn it though...,Anyway first things first.
As we all know (or some of you readers) I went past my supposed initial due date of June 20th.. well way past I guess? 43 weeks and 2 days according to my chart and the online baby widget on my profile page, I still don’t put much stock in the accuracy of due-dates or mine for that matter. But after I saw her born I can at least admit somewhat she looked and could well be at least somewhat post-date, but really she was born when she was ready to, and I don’t regret not interfering or trying to induce her, and allowing her to come when she was ready and meant to.
Though still sad I had to sadly lose out on my original birth plan and having a natural water birth at a birthing center with my wonderful midwife due to stupid SC law of going past 42 weeks.
I days later (Thursday I believe it was?) went to Manning SC at the request of my midwife to see the Nurse Midwife (who did all my paps and other test that deemed me a non-risk healthy pregnancy) and to also see the M.D who did my 2nd trimester ultrasound to try and get a NST.
I was very apprehensive of this, and in some ways felt it very unnecessary, I felt just fine and the baby felt just fine, and due to lots of research felt it would be a battle on some of it keeping me out of being coaxed into any form of inductions.
Of course the NST and Ultrasound came back with the stereotypical results almost in a order that most docs like to feed you and in the usual scare tactics, only one was accurate in the end, and it still didn’t hinder the birth or harm her. And the M.D did give me the usual scare tactics and told me to no later then Monday try and wait this out or risk it.
I still in the end listened to my body and other things, I sadly had to tune out the negatives from some well meaning folks as well.
But I only agreed to quell the increasing fears of my near family and some friends, and to keep them off my back. As some of you know how that was one of the main struggles and major factoring of stresses, which I still believe helped stall my labor in a lot of ways if not mainly due to the added stress.
I know they meant well, and I know they cared and were scared, but the tactics that were used during those last weeks, the things said and some of the lack of support or belief in me really hurt (and still does) and really made a time very hard on me that could of been a lot gentler even quicker if I was trusted and left to be.
I had to literally take up not accepting calls/visits and total avoidance and my partner to keep many at bay, and to keep myself in a zen and positive zone best we could.
And not let the fear tactics or negatives fill my head. I came very close over the weekend of the birth wanting to seriously pack up the car with my lover, take my cat and go out of town or hell even the woods and get far away from the current home situation, out of the state and birth the baby somewhere else due to all the stress and feeling so unsafe and unsupported even threatened to birth (it felt that bad) I did literally feel this deep primal mother bear type urges and protectiveness taking over and seriously was considering some alternatives if I was to be continuously harassed, and not supported and understood.
I was tired of defending myself, explaining, or even trying to show what I did know and it falling on def ears, I was tired of fighting and having to avoid those who couldn't or wouldn’t understand. Regardless of how much I care about them or vice versa, regardless of supposed good meaning intentions, there was just too much negative, too much fear and stress and not something a pregnant woman in her last few days before birth should be dealing with.
I had to fight to really go inward really tune into my body, into this baby and do what I felt was right.
I think in the end regardless of some of the changes in original plan and the changing in birth course took, I still feel deep down I listened well and reacted the way I needed to and when I needed to.
And regardless of other peoples opinions, worries and self doubt about it all and towards me.
Was it the ideal birth or one I had hoped for?
No….
not by a long shot.
But it happened the way it happened and there are some things I wish happened or mourn slightly that didn’t. But the over all I adapted to and accepted, and the over all outcome is what happened, was meant to happen, and could have been a lot different and a lot worse.
So I am ok with it, though could of gladly done without some things.
But the important thing is I have a healthy baby girl and some of the trials we went through from that day to the following days were meant and made us stronger I think.
I left the experience empowered in a lot of ways and am grateful my inner strengths came out the way they did and was able to tackled fears and demand in a lot of ways my wants and get through a lot of it, and as naturally as possible.
This includes as well my pregnancy with all the hurdles and oppositions I received during it and overcame.
I did my damndest to try and have a relaxing weekend, and to make the current place as calming and zen before Mondays next NST test and possible hospital admittance.
And lucky me I managed to labor finally that weekend before anymore test or more interference from various sources.
So after all that above onto the labor!
From what I've gathered from my various scribbled and compiled notes
I managed to find and from cluttered memory,
Friday saw much labor inducing relaxing techniques, cooking type nesting maybe? Cuddling and sex, and not allowing the phone or inquiries, impending deadlines to affect.
Saturday relaxed, and a trip to dinner and a movie later that night to see Hellboy
Which baby while still inside seemed very active to this, and I was determined to see it one way or another when it came out in theaters.
Sunday morning around 7am saw me up for the usual morning potty break out of dead sleep, back to bed after a slightly uncomfortable bowel movement, which really only happens once a day during the day, and not so harsh.
But through the morning I would have repeats of this and no more sleep after 8am due to a evil developing hemorrhoid. I’ve never had one till this point, and this one would become the bane of my existence and through my labor.
I also began to notice more crampy like menstrual sensations and saw just a lil bit of tinged pink pee on the toilet paper and a shininess to it, along with a lil more potent contractions. I had some past few days but so spaced out and not enough to make me pause as much.
I ended up coming downstairs to the den to announce somewhat excitedly to my partner who was surprisingly still up, hadn't slept all night and was playing a Star Wars video game. That I believe I was in the beginning stages of real labor, but to not get too excited or worked up just yet and see how the day would play out.
So we both tried to not count or keep too much track of contractions, but noted when there was significant differences and new physical changes, and to just try and go about the task of the day.
Through the day and evening I seemed to of transitioned from the various 3 main stages almost to text book typical perfect-like in my childbirth class book and kinda quickly what it seemed like and what my partner assumed and witnessed. Though I felt the last two stages (transition and 2nd/last stage) kept going back and forth around the end.
The earlier stages seemed like a breeze and almost at times very enjoyable, sometimes orgasmic in an odd way.
And I felt I could cope very well, and counted myself lucky thus far with how it felt like smooth sailing in some regards. And began to let myself ride it all out and hoped for by nighttime or early morning my lil girl would be in my arms in no time soon and I could do this at home just fine. My gut reactions through most the day and night were positive, and she was still very responsive inside, nothing to cause me any alarm or worry to make any dashes to the hospital and to proceed in any other way then stay comfortable at home and ride this out.
We had our supplies at the ready, we ended up making the various rooms prepped for laboring comfort and birth. The birth center sterilized packed bags full of chux pads and towels and other sorids at the ready, teas and fluids and snacks easily always in arms reach, though as labor progressed it became harder to want to eat.
I think it was around sometime in the early afternoon was when the cramps were getting a lil more strong and the lower back pains getting a lil more intense, along with that damn newly agitated hemorrhoid was making things a bit uncomfortable to the point sitting, or laying down became impossible. A shower became my saving grace and sanity keeper through the rest of my labor more so in the last hours.
Not to mention the only real thing next to massage or counter pressure from my partner on my sacrum to keep the pain at bay or bearable. Thank god for detachable shower heads, semi strong water pressure and awesome supportive partners with patience and stamina.
Sometime early mid-afternoon round about is when I started really noticing a significant increase in amount of mucus, along with some here and there small amounts of tinge pink every time I wiped. And I began to wear pads for the next few hours just so I didn't drip anywhere and to monitor it a bit better.
Much stronger cramps and contractions as the day progressed I was too much in a zone most the time to remember to continue to keeping a written log in my notebook which I misplaced at some point.
But I do remember closer to evening things started feeling more intense, and I remember my partner getting the smart idea to drag our guest-bedroom mattress out and down to the downstairs den/living room (which I spent the remaining of my labor other then between in the shower) our own bedroom became too difficult to be comfortable in, my birthing ball and chair did nothing but bring some form of agony, even leaning over the bed. Which kneeling soon became the only real position I could do comfortably due to the hemorrhoid, and the growing awareness and developing increase of bothersome back labor. I did in the last couple hours end up back in the bedroom, but spent the majority of my labor on the mattress downstairs or leaning against the stairwell banister with a pillow, chux pads under me while I moaned, swayed and pleaded constantly for my partner to apply hand pressure on my lower back. This really became my only labor comfort, next to him fetching cold cloths and rice packs, and forcing RRL Tea or water in me.
He was such a trooper through all this and with even less sleep then me, and did good to read and mostly anticipate my needs, which is never really easy even outside something like this. And I know there were some later stages in the morning that he was getting really bored in some ways and drained, it became that monotonous and predictable on some levels.
Even dealt well with when I just about puked on him at some point accidentally. I ended up in the heavier stages throwing up at least I think 3-4 times? It was awful and I really didn't think I was gonna be a puker.
I know that by 11pm or 12am not sure of the exacts? These are the times of labor things became a lil more blurred and time melted together.
It became increasingly hard to move about, contractions were seeming to come closer, but I gave up timing, and couldn't really focus on it. And I kept feeling like I constantly wanted to poop (luckily nothing like that happened, though it was one of my silly labor embarrassing type fears) but yeah lots of that feeling, a very angry hemorrhoid, exhaustion kicking in hard core, clothing became annoying and at some point I went between nothing to just a long blue satin button-up nightshirt to nothing again, and I think my water may have started leaking by this point? But it wasn't a lot to make me be bothered, and the color was still clear, mixed with mucus.
I spent a lot of time kneeling on the mattress on the floor with my elbows and head propped on a pillow on the edge of the couch, with partner continuing to massage, comfort and talk me through as my moans and grunts became more prominent and the pain came in waves, but still bearable enough to ride out and keep going.
I did fall asleep between some of the contractions, even though my knees and legs were screaming from all the kneeling and the weight and pressure from being on them all day and night.
I think around the morning hours is when I probly took the most showers and the longest, sometimes with the help of my partner. It was really the only way I could keep awake, keep focused and relieve the build up in my back and bottom, that and alternating between sitting on the toilet just as much if not more.
Sitting on the toilet at least relieved my partner and gave him some much needed breaks, it also was the only way I could bare to sit for a bit and not be in total agony.
But sadly neither methods didn't help for too long, things were just feeling too intense and the dawn was creeping, and I wasn't feeling like I was progressing any further, in fact I felt kinda stuck and started to get really scared.
Tons of contractions one right after another and hard, lots of feelings of baring down, but just not feeling able to progress or maybe not knowing how? My knowledge, instincts and body felt like it was failing me, and I was in this terrible loop of pain and endless bearing down.
I remember after one of my last finale showers maybe around 5am/6am?
We both noticed a distinct change in smell and in my discharge, a lil murkier colored then previous hours and slightly unsettling.
I also started getting this gut reaction that something felt off, and I started worrying about lil girl. I hadn't been able to feel much movement from her, not even a real thump here and there even with the usual prodding.
Which is not normal for her at least in most circumstances, and wasn't sure if labor was just exhausting to her and why she wasn't moving at that time? But it started making me panic mixed with the not being able to progress any further and just having 2 hours of the same motions and pain over and over.
At about 7am-8am (again time was uncertain and meshed together about this point and after, it could have been 9am I think is when both me and my partner really started getting so exhausted and so worried that it was time to make a decision.
It was starting to look like my further time at the house continuing this labor and birthing this child at home was not looking like it was gonna be a workable or safe feeling option anymore and it was time to go the alternative and maybe while we could scoot my ass to the hospital.
This in itself would become a hard feet to accomplish..
I remember my partner in desperation calling our child birth educator (who happens to also be a Doula, and has been numerous times over this pregnancy a great source of advice and endless support) to ask advice on how we should progress. I really didn't want to go to the hospital and was fearful of what would happen once I got there, what interventions would I be pushed into or quilted into? And that my natural labor may just very well be slipping further away if we made this choice. But also knowing at the very least maybe they could check to see how the babies heart rate and status was and maybe a. let me labor natural or b. let me go back home (I doubted the latter) but was not aware really how far I truly was progressed at this point or even bothered or remembered to try to do a dilation self check.
She suggested either go to the hospital, grab a doula there, or take the option of using a doula friend of hers who is apprenticing and close to finishing her certification but would assist the birth at our home for free.
Being the hour it was, the feelings I was having, and not knowing or have met this potential doula, and due to the circumstances, my gut instinct and ticking clock we felt it better to go with the hospital.
Though I do wish I knew of and met this doula before my labor, I would of gladly considered her then.
I think we got to the hospital around 9:30 10am?
It took so much effort to grab the bags, do some last minute packing, get me dressed, get me to get in the car (movement was becoming quite difficult) my partner made me get in the passenger seat and straddle it and face the backseat forward, I couldn’t sit otherwise.
And kept muttering during the drive between grunts and moans that I think we were too late I think I might of fucked up, I didn’t know anymore or felt certainty with anything, but I was really getting worried and scared, but I kept praying and trying to listen inward that everything is ok, it’s not too late we didn’t fuck up..
That 5-10 minute ride was hell and amusing all at the same time. I’m sure I was a sight to the morning commuters on the highway that we passed, with my tangled crazy hair, sundress, glazed crazy breathing moaning pain face, straddling the car seat and madly squeezing a bright orange squishy ball (the kind made of rubber and has lil spikes and lights up) this was one of my labor focus objects, which I ended up tearing a hole into it on the way due to the intensity of the contractions.
I remember my partner pulling up to the hospital entrance, grabbing a wheelchair struggling to get me to comfortably sit down. All I wanted to do was stand and lean over things, and kept begging to be allowed to but knowing it would be hell to try and get upstairs otherwise. And to try and wheel me to the 2nd floor where the Doulas we called about before leaving the house were stationed, though the front desk people in the lobby seemed confused and determined to take me straight to maternity.
My partner was afraid to leave me unattended and afraid someone would try and wheel
me away while he went to go park the car.
Luckily I was left alone for the most part and was able to keep myself calm and not look too obvious I was laboring hard and to not be bothered till he got back.
Well when he got back we managed to be escorted to the floor where the doula’s station was and managed to snag a doula. Her name was Gene, and if she was a doula you could of fooled me, most quiet and not involving doula I’ve ever met, and really I didn’t feel like she was supportive or involved like what a doula normally is or should be regardless of the last minute circumstances.
She then had me go to a room, quickly undress and put a gown on, have a nurse check my dilation, and to all our surprise discover that I seem to have been at 10cm’s and pretty effaced and ready to go. Use the restroom, pea in a cup, and then quickly got me back in the wheelchair and whisked me down to labor and delivery, where I was quickly greeted by Dr. K and a whole slew of females who I’m sure had good intentions, are good at what they do, but apparently not use to natural birthers, or folks who prefer to come in as late as possible and prefer no interventions.
I had an interesting and slightly tough time standing my ground and demanding/requesting all these things from no drugs (though it was too late for most) No C-Cection unless desperately and seriously required and it would mean I was not progressing at all or the baby wasn’t descending, and the stupid monitor was seeing a major decrease. I also demanded no cutting whatsoever, and to let me tear if it comes down to it.
I kept watching out of the corner of my eye the doctor gradually scoot her table of sharp shiny tools of evil cutting closer and. closer to the bed and occasionally remarking about how if I didn’t progress or if looked like babies shoulders would get stuck that she would have to for the safety of the baby cut my prenium. I told her to let me tear and push and fan her out and be patient with me. I found myself repeating this a few times during labor.
She also wanted to take out my barbell hood piercing, claiming it might tear, catch on the baby, but they would put it back in after the labor, which I know now that wouldn’t of happened, remember to or them know how to.
First mistake and what I found laughable was she mistook it for a clit piercing, I told her (though I don’t remember, but my partner did) telling her if it tears it tears and leave it alone in a loud commanding voice.
Thankfully she backed off on that and respected my wishes
Not sure the exact amount of time I was pushing, from the moment I got in bed to the moment lil girl was out?
But I think it was something like 30-minutes, the documented report the doula sent us later doesn’t give the best indication and claimed it was maybe an hour but we were only in total labor 14 hrs (she misheard our report when we first got in) my partner thinks it was an hour due to the last cell phone log to my mother right as we got into the delivery room.
From my notes starting around 7am Sunday morning to the minute little girl was born at 11:49am I’d say close to 29 hrs in a half maybe of labor round about
All I know is pushing in a semi sitting up position sucks, and I hate that hospitals only allow that or use of a squat bar on the bed, but no other positions.
I really wanted and felt leaning over the bed was where I needed and wanted to be in these last moments and that the doctor to catch in whatever position I wanted and felt the best, but that wasn’t convenient for her and she declined.
And so there I was too weak to tackle that squat bar (and not really encouraged, other then by my partner) and around the end found myself grasping with my hands the stirrups and begrudgingly pushing in a very uncomfortable taxing position and knowing full well I was gonna tear in this position and with the demanded form of bearing down and pushing, and be surprised to get her out actually and without a major tear.
My new surrounding birthing team didn’t seem the most encouraging or positive at times and their constant annoying chanting and cheer-leading of “puuuush, bare down, breath, puuuush, that’a girl, come on!!” and telling me how to push and when while a few of them took turns holding my legs wide open really annoyed the piss out of me actually.
Maybe cause it felt practiced, common and fake, and being told when and how to push in this situation when they don’t know what my body is telling me, and trying to base off the fetal/contraction monitor instead.
I also was annoyed at how they treated my partner, with only allowing him begrudgingly to collect and feed me ice chips and wet cloths, once in awhile allowing him to hold my other leg.
He was not allowed to catch, nor cut the cord, the doctor. did not deem it safe enough due to the amount of merconium and the supposed possible high-risk situation. But really I think it boiled down to and by her tone and reaction she just didn’t want to, and seemed annoyed at such a request among all the other ones we kept making.
So here I am pushing with all my might, wanting to just be done already, shut the annoying cheerleading squad up, and avoid Doctor happy cut who was making me more nervous by the minute, with her constant reminders of cutting and vacuum suctioning if I didn’t hurry up and work harder and push.
So I pushed and pushed and prayed to whatever God/Goddess that I get through this and can do this without any interventions and these bitches will back off and my lil girl will be out and is healthy.
I don’t know how many pushes or where or how exactly I mustered the energy?
But somehow I got her out, and it was the most bizarre feeling of her coming out and I’m still unable to find adequate words to describe. Yes there was a slight sting, and lots of squish, and slime, and it felt like my vagina was a never ending gushing volcano of various colors and sensations and aromas, that the colors I could only imagine up in a paint pallet. My partner described them as almost fake, cartoon like or like the blood in the opening of Sweeny Todd, mixed with the color of the merconium water. So many rich dark and light browns, crimson dark reds and fake bright red is what I gathered from my partner, who also later joked and referred to my crotch as like a Dairy Queen ad done up like Moridor (from LOTR).. gotta love geeks right?
I only was able to see some of it splattered on the doctor’s scrubs, and for some reason I took a twisted glee from that sight of her covered in it, not sure why? Other then I didn’t and still do not like this doctor and she was not who I wanted to assist in my delivery nor my post-partum care.
But she was and can’t change it now.
She I also later found out from my original midwife and childbirth educator and my own personal reading and impression of her is an enemy of sorts of my midwife, dislikes her and natural birthing and anything involving holistic or natural. And has attempted in the past to get the birthing center shut down since it first opened in January down the street from the hospital. Guess the competition got to her, or she just can’t stand anything natural as I’m gradually learning from my delivery experience with her and the way she talks during some of my post-partum checkups…who knows?
Ironic and surreal that this would be the woman who would end up attending my baby’s birth, though I wished it weren’t the case in all regards.
I refuse to say she delivered for obvious reasons.. I so hate the term and feel it is wrong, because when it came down to it I did, she just happened to be the one in front to catch.
Anyway so with baby finally out, though not moving when she first came out and as they lifted her, I was in such a daze at this point and took a bit to register she was out and being taken across the room, I remember briefly and was confused when my partner tried to block my view, looked a bit freaked out and sad and kissed me quickly I got this deep sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach when he did this (he later claimed that was because he thought we lost her due to her not moving and we were too late) but luckily out of the corner of his eye he saw her kick out her leg strongly on the way over to the warmer. Sadly they quickly whisked her across the room to be examined and suctioned, we begged them to try and do the examination on the bed with me, or at least scoot the bed or examination table closer, but this was received with a half assed attempt to scoot the bed and get as close as we could without cutting the cord. But mostly a no can do, not in this situation and with this much merconium. We begged them to let the cord finish pulsing and baby girl receive all her cord blood, which was also sadly received with a no (this actually pissed me off a bit) but was unable to do anything about it since they quickly did it before me and my partner could say much further.
I was at least grateful my partner was able to go to the warmer and watch everything the techs did, and to request certain things not be done as per our birth plan, and most was met with a ok and respected.
So baby managed despite all the merconium, being late and doubtful outcome came out with a perfect 10 apgar (which is rarely give at this hospital so I was told by numerous people) It was nice but surreal to hear her cry out (though it seemed so sweet and not that loud) and it truly sink in hey she’s alive, hey I really did it, and hey we haz a baby!
And only after some clean up of me and ten minutes apart I think she was finally brought over to me by my partner, where we finally got to lock eyes and have that moment, which still saddens me a bit I didn’t get to have it the minute she came out and I wasn’t the first to hold her.
But was relieved to finally get to hold her, even though my partner said by the look of me I had a very matter of fact attitude and look about me and was a bit short with anyone who came near or said anything to me. I guess momma bear was still prominent.
I didn’t cry like I thought I would and I usually do around newborns, this kinda surprised me, but I think due to all that transpired I was in a certain mode and shock.
She was so wide eyed, alert and beautiful, regardless of initially being very red faced and blotchy with scratches across her face. She is very claw face happy, and in till the 2nd day or so we weren’t able to get her mittens, which she sadly still has to wear at current till she learns to be nicer to her face. What is it about baby girls mostly who I’ve noticed have a penchant for clawing their faces?
She did quickly and perfectly latch, and we were at least allowed a few minutes together before annoying nurses started trying to take blood pressure again and hook me up to annoying antibiotics, and the other nurse and my partner left with the baby to the nursery for cleanup and whatevers.
I was however very annoyed once again at Dr. K for during while they were checking out the baby in the warmer earlier she was down at my stuff apparently checking out the rest of the cord, later told by my partner she was also taking samples and blood, which pissed me off because that was not asked and agreed to be donated nor was she explaining to me what she was doing. And I found her muttering under her breath and just enough for me to probly hear how not good it all looked and how could I be so risky.
She was also lightly tugging on my cord, and it took me a minute to recognize the sensation and had to ask her if she was pulling on the cord and trying to birth the placenta that way?
She said yes but she was being careful and she kept annoyingly referring to it as the afterbirth, I snapped at her and said can you please let me birth and push the placenta on my own. Which thankfully and in that annoying sitting position I somehow managed to do so in one strong push (thank you super kegels)
I also during the labor apparently only had a 2nd degree tear and one that I knew instinctively and was ok with letting heal on it’s own with no stitching. Which seemed to shock and dismay my doctor who was eager and insisted I should get a couple of stitches and was surprised by my high pain tolerance through all the labor and after. I think I only took 4 darvocets total after the birth and during my first day recovering.
I also had not massive amount of hemorrhaging if barely after it all and the days later. Hurray for alfalfa and good diet during pregnancy and before labor! The nurses kept commenting on that and were surprised for some reason?
Du’h good nutrition and certain herbs can benefit :p
After all that we did manage to convince her to let us keep the placenta.
Which was received by a very surprised, confused and probly disturbed reaction from all in the room. I just simply stated along with my partner that it was both a personal and spiritual reason and I was willing to sign a release form if need be and had my own container as well. I knew it was my legal right beforehand that I am allowed to take it home.
I reluctantly got a yes to that request, a form to fill out and told to not to make it known that I was receiving such (they don’t want it to become common knowledge that such could be allowed) After all in their eyes it’s considered body waste or a supposed bio-hazard. Which is sad and not what it really is or how I and many folks see it. And I’m sure they are not use to patients requesting or wanting such. My supposed natural or granola ways seemed to be a curious thing to them during our stay and would be questioned throughout.
So they put it in a container and held it in a fridge during my stay and did end up giving it to us as we left on the last day.
I wasn’t too thrilled about the massive chunk they took out of it for supposed sample for testing. I was promised that there would be barely an inch taken.
And was numerous times warned to please not digest any of it, or even encapsulate it like I had told them and originally planned to. Due to the state it was in when it came out (there was only a lil bit of calcification) I still am unsure if I want to believe them on that warning? And I want to consult some other folks with more experience or have had a similar situation. For now though it is still frozen and untouched, and awaiting a possible alternative decision on what to do with it. We may just still do art stamp prints with it and bury it and plant a tree with it route. But I really wanted to have it encapsulated in pill form and take it like a vitamin during the post-partum period.
But at the very least they did at least give it to us with no real hassle or flack so am grateful for that one request being granted.
So the rest of the hospital stay and tale is not as exciting or worth going into detail over
Though there were some moments and issues that could be worth noting but not as major as the ones mentioned above.
And I’ve made this entry way long enough. Needless to say I after this experience still hate hospitals even more, wished I could of brought lil girl into this world on a more comfortable note; like not in a hospital, among harsh lights, total strangers, cold pokey, prodding, and pricking things.
And just have been able to bring her into this world in dim subtle lighting, comfortable home like surroundings, possible water birth transition, and just uninterrupted first hours together. Something the hospitals dearly lack.
I think we would of benefited 100x’s more better if this were the case.
The lack of uninterrupted sleep every 15 minutes or every hour, crappy food, and some of the not so desirable lack of friendly or considerate bedside manner from some of the staff really kind of dampened the experience and birth high. Not to mention making it hard to breastfeed or enjoy the newness and time with my daughter. Don’t get me started on my rant about certain evil old chrochity technicians in the nursery who can’t due PKU’s right and made what could have been a simple procedure a traumatic and damaging experience for my daughter along with, crappy aggressive lactation consultants… but that’s for another later entry and part of the cause of our first few days with her being hell in various ways and ending up at the children’s hospital for a week.
This is why I am a firm believer that freestanding or home birth is the best and most ideal in so many ways especially if one is low risk and um not late. And if I ever do end up having a 2nd I will do my best and hope to be able to reclaim and experience such that I didn’t get to this first time.
If you read this far and I didn’t lose you or bore you too much… Congrats! Heh.
More baby pix some recent past few weeks have been added. Dcon ones will be added soon.
http://www.flickr.com/photos/kaotikvisions/sets/72157603901011253/